


Silver Soul

by SkylarHazuki



Category: silversoul
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 16:26:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15953135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylarHazuki/pseuds/SkylarHazuki
Summary: Brian Rosenfer, the first main character, appears.





	1. Prologue

It was a night like any other, on planet Earth.  


Evan should have been scared, as he was walking down those unknown streets, but yet he felt only a blinding rage. Day after day, he was just feeling lost in a place where he did not belong.  
The lights of the capital were not close to him anymore, and neither was his home, where his parents used to wait for him every night. It was the first time that he was even missing all the arguments about who was the best pilot of his beloved Pangram, the first moving planet of the Universe.

Simply, it was impossible for him, for his people, to go back home. And that truth hurted him at every step, as if he was stepping into a labyrinth of brambles. So, was he destined to stay where nobody liked him, forever? Was Pangram gone forever?  
The terrestrials made his planet fall in a thousand pieces already one year before, during the war, yet he still could not believe there was nothing else he could do, except thanking the fate because he survived. No, he deserved better. His people and him deserved to go back to live as they lived before, not to wander on Earth like lost autumn leaves, dried and bruised, hoping to survive and being accepted by their worst enemies.

That evening he did not want to talk to anyone, and yet he suddendly found himself forced to do that, when he heard a voice calling his name, a distant echo from somebody he wanted to escape from.  
Alaron was there, once again.

-Evan! Please, stop! You can go back, it's not too late! –

Reluctantly, Evan listened to him, once that the distance between them shortened. He stopped walking and turned around, showing off a smile of scorn. After all it was so much easier to behave like that, to pretend to be strong and confident, even if he only wanted to bury his face in his hands and throw out all the tears or scream until he was no longer able to feel his lungs.

That was how he had to deal with his twin brother (?) Alaron, to keep him quiet. If Alaron would have noticed that he was suffering, probably he would have started to discuss, to look for an agreement or talk with his usual sermons. But Evan did not want to find an agreement anymore.  
They were enemies now. Enemies who had made two different choices about some important issues. There was no point to keep on thinking about their feelings. Or at least, this was what he was repeating to himself, even without much convinction.

He looked at Alaron's face, and for a moment he remembered a time when the two of them still lived on Pangram and everyone said that they were practically identical, like two beautiful snowflakes of two different colors, one white like ice and the other red like fire, and he could not help himself to feel a bit of nostalgia.

Perhaps Evan had grown colder, so close to the ice, because he was the first one to open his eyes and had time to see their father crying, as he was realyizing that his sons were born in wartime. He was introduced to darkness and frost too soon. Or maybe Alaron was kinder just because they were not so much alike, and what warmed the one froze the other, so it was impossible to keep getting along.

Revenge was for Evan what the warm bonfires and peace banquets were for Alaron: the only way to accept losses and forget.  
Yet, when they were little kids they even had played together hundreds of times and Alaron never melted Evan's ice sculptures, and Evan had always kept his water away from Alaron's fire, determined to make it live and grow even if it was so different from him . Why now had it become so difficult to stay close without destroying each other?

-If you retire now, you could still be one of us! I promise.-, Alaron pleaded, his voice broken from care.

Evan was surprised to see him again.  
Only Alaron could be so stubborn, stupid enough to challenge him in that way, in the middle of an hollow city, without an ally who protected his shoulders.  
In the middle of the dark night, Alaron’s red hair looked like glowing embers. A dark mantle hung down over his shoulders, hiding his emaciated body.  
War made him so thin. He looked incredibly fragile at the moment, but Evan knew that he was not at all: despite the darkness that surrended them, Alaron’s gaze burned with a fierce and dogged determination. It would not be easy to stop him. But, why just Alaron could leave him alone? Why he kept on looking for his smile, for the peace of his soul? Evan still could not figure it out. Maybe, he did not even deserve it.

"How much wasted force for a wrong cause. He's so naive." Evan found himself thinking for the umpteenth time, while the other boy held out his hand. 

-I won’t go back-, said Evan, with firm tone. -I know what you want, so my answer is no.-

Alaron bit his lip. His hands were constantly trembling, like leaves shaken by a gale.  
–Listen to me..I just ask you to think about it really well.- he insisted, advancing a few steps, between the piles and the recent battles rubbles. -Are you so sure of your choice? Do you really want to enlist to the army? -

-Of course I do.- said Evan, and, for a moment, he spoke with complete honesty: he was not disdainful, not bashful, just incredibly sincere. -I want to go back, to live like many months ago. I want rebuild our planet at any cost. I know that I can do it: its fragments are still recoverable, it is not destroyed forever. We will finally win the war and return powerful, the most powerful of the universe. You should understand that too.-

-But I understand it! - said Alaron, with an angry expression that seemed almost out of place on his usually gentle face. –it’s just that I do not think it's a good idea. I don’t want to be powerful anymore, not at this cost. Who cares about being powerful, now? We have been fighting a war for more than five years, Evan. So many people dies, both of us and our enemies. Don’t you think it's just better to.. stop? And to find an agreement with them?-

-To stop? What are you talking about? We must end this battle once and for all! Otherwise, everyone else was dead in vain.- Evan snapped, losing patience. His voice trembled with rage, as he was struggling to not scream. Just because Alaron was a coward, he did not have to imitate him and bow his head.

There was a thought to give him strength, a voice that not even all the humiliations of that world could shut down: everytime a weapon scratched his skin, everytime he had a regret about his old life, Evan pointed his eyes to the stars and imagined that the his beloved planet Pangram was still there, to sail the skies faster than a flash, brighter than a thousand suns, and he felt powerful again. 

-Our parents would be proud of me, if they could see that I still believe in what they fought for. This is why they gave their life, in case you don’t remember.-, he added, suddendly raising the tone of voice. 

Alaron's gaze wavered for a moment, blurred by a slight melancholy. -I just think our parents would be happy to see us alive, you know? Escape is not always cowardly, Evan.–

\- Isn’t it? -

-No, I would say no.- Alaron forced a smile, shaking his head. –We should live even for those who can no longer do that, and there's nothing easy about this, after what we went through. I would like to find a new start, that's all. I'd like to save innocent people, terrestrial and fellow citizen, and just live in peace. That’s the way I fight. But if you do not want to follow me, I suppose that..-

-Your beloved terrestrials killed our parents. Did you forget that? - Evan snapped.

-They were in the middle of the war, and we were the ones who invaded them.- Alaron replied with exasperation. –Don’t you understand? It to avoid other situations like ours that I want to create a partnership between our two planets.-

-There won’t exist peace between us and them. No one will follow your ideas, you stupid Alaron.- Evan interrupted abruptly. -Not me, at least. We were not born co-workers, try to remember that: we were born predators, and will return to be. Next time we'll meet again, we’ll be two enemies. I promise.-  
His latest whisper disappeared in the middle of the night wind.  
Alaron could not do anything at all but but watched his twin flying away, until he became littler than a silver stain that flanked the glow of the moon. Until he realized that, at that point, he had to start a revolution without him.


	2. Rosenfer Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian Rosenfer, the first main character, appears.

Chapter One   
I want to touch the northern lights.  
We could leave the world behind  
I want to know what is like  
to walk away from this life  
(James Young - Northern lights)

Cork, Ireland, April 21, 1926  
BRIAN  
Brian Rosenfer reluctantly opened his eyes, eyelids as heavy as lead.

Sunlight was beating on his face and lighting up the bedroom, captured by the protruding windows. It was late in the morning: the bedside clock ticked half past eight. He was definitely in trouble.  
-Brian, are you still sleeping? Come on, come on, it is too late! -, called him his father from downstairs, with an irritated voice.

Brian snorted, still sleepy, shouting back. –Yes, I am arriving, I swear! I am almost there!-

He stood up, kicking off the covers; he needed to stretch a little bit, before meeting his father. His head seemed as heavy as a boulder. He would have been happy to stay lounging a little bit more, but he hoped at least that, facing reality, he would have stopped thinking about his absurd dream.

"Who were those brothers?" he asked to himself, for the umpteenth time, as he began to dress, staring at the wall. The figures he had seen during sleep still seemed to move in front of him, living and tangible as if they were real. When he woke up he was almost surprised to found himself sleeping in his normal bed, in Ireland.

"Those two boys..why, why did I dreamed about them? And where were they from? They were talking about a planet..Pangram, or something like that.”

Brian struggled to remember, without much success. There were so many things that he could not remembered anymore, about those two mysterious young boys: their names, their words ... everything was a tangle in his confused head. Yet, somehow, some of their features had remained etched in his mind: one boy’s silver and cold eyes, the other’s red hair, the determination that seemed to guide them at every step.  
Brian rubbed his eyes and sighed. Sleep had created a special and interesting world , and then this world was taken away from him, forever. If he could have make a choice (??), Brian would have been happy to go back there. Dreaming was like travelling in a iridescent world, while the everyday reality was too flat for his taste.

He tried to ward off that strange feeling of dissatisfaction from the mind, concentrating on more concrete issues.

"Maybe I should stop reading so much before going to sleep ... if my father found out that, I will..."  
A couple of books were still laid on the table beside the bed. Brian  
He hastened to hide them under the mattress, hoping that they were safe, at least until that evening.  
Those books probably were probably the ones who made his immagination fly during sleep, he realized after a while, trying to calm himself down. 

-Come on, Brian! I am waiting for you!-

Brian winced at that second call, turning away from his thoughts.  
He did not even bother himself to take a look in the mirror before he left the room dressed in the first clothes that had found in the wardrobe, and uncombed hair.  
The prospect of starting the day with a lesson of trigonometry, or whatever was the name of that damn gibberish, did not particularly attract him.  
***

 

The boy walked down the stairs with some haste, finally reaching his father.

-Oh, here you are. What the hell were you doing? Do you think this is the right time to arrive? -

A slap hit Brian's cheek, which jumped more because of surprise than because of pain.  
Stephen Rosenfer grabbed his son by the shoulders, shaking him.

His stern gaze rested on Brian’s figure with obvious disapproval. Brian had an handsome face, green eyes and thick eyelashes, but all of those qualities seemed to fade, due to the neglect (?) that he reposed in curing his appearance. The buttons of his shirt were tied in no particular order, the cuffs darkened by ink, and his hair looked like a hornet's nest.

-I was hoping, at least, that your delay was justified by an adequate preparation, Brian. Maybe you do not know ... and I would not be surprised, you know very little about all the practical things, after all... -, Stephen continued, loosening the grip -that in our society, is not enough to look good thanks to some kind of luck.-

Brian frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the rest of that speech. The sermons of his father were, most of the time, boring, but if he listened to him once, at least he could avoid the other hundreds complains.

-You must be elegant. You must make a good impression in public, with brushed hair, eyes alert, well-groomed clothes, and nails ... -  
Brian chuckled with a cough.

\- ... and rainbows over my head, and hair shining like gold, and teeth shining like diamonds, and then, something else? -, he could not help himself, sarcastically.

His father gave him a withering look. Brian ignored him, until he heard his next words, almost frozing himself in surprise.

-There is nothing to laugh about, Brian. You should rather stop reading all that nonsense that are filling your head every night. You are already pretty stupid, you do not need them.-  
Brian stifled a gasp. How the hell he had noticed them? He thought he was safe!

-I have taken the keys of the library to Madeleine, and do not try to retrieve them from the pockets of my jacket as you did the last time. And now, come on, go comb yourself, at least! -

-But I do not understand ... -, Brian said, digging his nails into his palms, frustrated- ... why can not I read the books we already have? They sit there to rot, nobody reads them, anyway! -

It had always seemed strange, to Brian, that Stephen, his father, the same man who was only interested in his richness and his social status, owned some very good books, held in a library of the kind that seemed to not interested him at all, but Brian loved. There were travel atlases, there, and then plays , novels, and another set of things that had devoured almost every night, under the light of candles’ stubs.  
But Stephen had always justified himself in the same way: he kept on repeating that he had received the library when he had purchased Rosenfer Manor (???), end of story. And for the first time in his life, Brian had believed him. For once, he had stopped to bend his head in search of mysteries to solve.

After all, there was nothing so extraordinary about his father.

He knew that in Cork everyone used to call him "the gray wizard", because he had silver hair and his gestures were cold and stern; but he also knew that it was nothing but a poetic nickname.  
The wizards, even if they had ever existed, surely did not look like the cynical boss of Cork market.

-By the way, why should I have a neat appearance, since I have to stay locked up at home to make ten thousand lessons? - Brian snorted. Sometimes it seemed to him that the walls around him, the corners of the house and garden, oppressed him at every breath, like a too narrow cage.

-Because they distract you from practical questions! And, speaking about the lessons ... -

-There is no lesson today: we have to go downtown, to the market! -, a female and stern voice interrupted them. Mrs Rosenfer approached them, impeccably dressed and adorned with jewels, her face marked by a fresh layer (?) of makeup.  
That, probably, was the ninth, or maybe tenth time that the woman spoke to Brian.   
The new father's wife was a lady of noble origin, rich beyond imagination. By now she had been living in their house for over a year, but she rarely deign to look at him. Brian had failed every attempt to exchange some small talks with her: she had ignored them all.  
It is not that she was cruel to him, or that she was similar in any way to the wicked stepmother of fairy tales; however, she was sufficiently detached to irritate him.  
If he existed or not, for Mrs Rosenfer would not make any difference.

Brian, in his heart, had long hoped that his father could recover himself from the death of his first wife, which occurred several years before. Brian could not miss his mother, since he had no memory about her, but his father could, or at least, so he believed.  
Brian had always hoped for the best for him: to fall in love a second time and come back to smile, especially.  
That woman, however, just drag him in some commitments even more, away from any form of affection.  
Brian often felt so lonely to believe that only if he dived into the dark sea of books’ ink he could still feel something, became different from them.

-I refuse to believe that you had forgot about that too, Brian. We have a major commitment. Sooner or later you have to wake up, if you want to work with your father.-

Brian, of course, forgot about that. He tried to hide his surprise and excitement, shaking his head. He enjoyed to put his nose over the perimeter Rosenfer Manor. That idea made him so happy that he forgot every bad thoughts of a moment before.

-Exactly, we are going to the market, so try to look presentable, since I do not want people around thinking I am growing a tramp (????) son. -

Brian wrinkled his lip in a grimace angrily, and straightened his hair with his fingers, just because he did not wanted to argue for who knows how much longer.  
Stephen and his wife left the house with quick steps, venturing into the garden.  
Brian remained a few steps away from them, wanting to enjoy the privilege of observing the spring bloom. The air was filled with the smells of freshly cut grass and wet ground.  
The boy reached out on the trunk of a small tree. It was pale, too thin, as if it grew barely. Even the garden, at Rosenfer Manor, was looked up to the extreme. And it is known (?) that too much apprehension eventually choke the most delicate buds.

When a spider climbed on his fingers, leaving the safe wood support, Brian smiled in amusement.

-I can not take you on the carriage rides, baby. But do not worry, I assure you: the company is not very good! You are luckier than me!-

The guy put the insect on a leaf, so it could reach the carriage.  
Meanwhile, the horses were pawing the ground, under the thin whip of the coachman.

Brian boarded the vehicle, leaning his head against the window as soon as it was set in motion.  
The Irish countryside ran in front of his eyes, in an inhomogeneous mass of fields with green, reddish and gold hues. The silhouette of the forest emerged away from the ground, stretching over the few houses in the area.  
River Lee crossed the landscape like a silver and sapphire wound, reflecting the colours of the sky, mottled by steel clouds. It would have rain soon. A few minutes earlier, Brian remembered, the sun was high and bright, but he was not surprised at all: the climate in Ireland was one of the most changeable things he knew.

Brian did not mind living in the countryside, but sometimes he felt a slight melancholy, knowing that he was surrended by not around more than thirty heads who thought and dreamed. In the country there were no theaters, libraries, and not even peers with whom to exchange a few words.  
He had always preferred the distant city, full of attractions for the eyes and the mind, blooming with life.  
The words of his father roused him from his thoughts a few moments later.

-So, will Miss Tallis arrive tomorrow? -

Brian kept on looking trough the fogged window, but strained his ears to hear that question, even if it was not addressed to him. Who was Miss Tallis? A new arrival at the manor was still a diversion from boredom.

-Fortunately yes: the garden is such a mess! I hope she will be able to do a good job.-, Mrs Rosenfer said.  
A new gardener, perhaps, Brian said himself. Nothing strange: a lot of people came to work at Rosenfer Manor, and as so many of them were fired too, as if it was compulsory to have exceptional quality to have the privilege to work there. Who knows if the new girl would have done well.


End file.
